DEVON'S SONG
by Loreal
Summary: Takes place after one of the medical examiners' office loses one of their own. This is written from Devon's POV. Please readreview!


DEVON'S SONG 

BY: Loreal

Author's Note:

The characters from Crossing Jordan are not mine. I am simply borrowing them for a brief time to write something inspired by tonight's episode (Sunday, November 14, 2004). No copyright infringement is either intended or implied. I am unsure of where the quote Garret recites at the end of the episode is from, so if anyone knows I could really use the source to accurately note its origin. I couldn't help but sit and write this after seeing tonight's episode! It was just too much of an inspiration and something which begged to be written. Please give feedback if you like it, if you don't, or if you have any constructive criticisms. Thanks in advance!

DEVON'S SONG

BY: Loreal

"As I stand on a mountain top, as the great bird approaches she is small in my sight but grows larger on approach until I am blessed with the full sight of graceful wings; proud countanence in good company. All too quickly she grows small again on the horizon and disappears from view and I call out, "There she's gone". But there are other mountain tops beyond me. And at the precise moment when I know the great bird's departure from my view I know there are new eyes taking up the sight of her. And fresh voices calling out, "Here she comes"."

From my place near the dying embers of the fire I watched as he stood and spoke. My mentor, my boss, my friend. I could see the tears rolling down his cheeks as he recited the words aloud to those whom had gathered together, united in mourning. As I listened to the words I wanted to cry. I wanted to know the feeling of the tear spilling down my cheek, to feel what these people whom I'd been close to in one way or another now felt. And still I wanted to call out to them; I wanted to tell them that I was here and everything was all right!

Looking from one somber face to the next, I could read the myriad of emotions each person felt. I felt my own emotions come bubbling to the surface, and yet I felt no trace of the wet, salty teardrops I've known for so many different events throughout my life. It was then at that very moment I realized my tears had yet to fall. But when?

My eyes first landed on Dr. Garret Macy. He was the Chief Medical Examiner and the one who had been reciting the beautiful, heartbreaking words. He had been a very patient person when I arrived for my first day of work. Of course little did I know that would be a day none of us would soon forget. My welcome committee to my new job in the coroners' office wasn't a fruit basket, nor was it a cheerful "Hey welcome to the building" by my other co-workers. No, my initiation to this new position in my life was to be kidnapped, harassed, threatened and witness to a murder... All to learn in the end it was simply a drill by a special Governmental group dealing with nuclear emergencies. We'd all been unknowing participants in their drill: Dr. Macy and his staff which now included myself.

I watched Garret's expression as he finished speaking and bowed his head in a moment of silent prayer and reflection. I'd grown to both like and respect him immensely over my few months here in Boston. The flow of tears poured steadily from his eyes as he glanced briefly in the direction of the still smoldering wreckage.

Next I spotted Nigel. Sweet, fun-loving, sarcastic to a fault Nigel... He was a true gentleman as most Englishmen were thought to be. I'd seen this man's genius at work several times, and even so he never ceased to amaze me. Nigel was brilliant, that much I was certain of! He could do things with a computer most people couldn't even think to do. I could feel the pain radiating from this gentle soul and could do nothing to lessen any of it.

Turning my gaze away from Nigel, my sight fell upon Lilly. I found the grief councilor incredibly grief-stricken herself. Lilly was usually so composed. Even in the face of the worst tragedies she'd often been a source of strength of courage for me. I often wondered how she maintained her composure when forced into dealing with such permanent situations as death in its many forms. She seemed to have her emotions well in check most of the time. But here standing in my line of vision was a woman whose hair was flying about her face, the little amount of makeup she wore now beginning to smudge and run. She turned her head away as a fresh wave of tears flooded her pretty face.

Standing beside Lilly was my favorite Boston PD boy in blue. Woody Hoyt looked as though his heart had been ripped out and handed to him in a million tiny pieces. The pain on his face made him look about 25 years older and much more haggard than any man should ever be. I wondered deep down if he knew how I'd really felt about him; all the little jabs, biting sarcasm, private and professional hits we'd send back and forth. Of course I knew he had a thing for Jordan, but I'd never seen any reciprocation on her part. After a while he and I had begun our own "thing". We'd never put a name to the feelings we had for one another, however, there they were all the same. And then there was our usual Sunday night ritual dinner of Chinese food he'd bring in each week. It had started shortly after I'd come to work here at the Medical Examiners' office.

"I love you Woody Hoyt," I whispered softly. I was shocked when he made no move to turn in my direction. Hadn't he heard me? Hadn't he heard my voice, the words I'd just spoken? Was he too racked with grief to even take notice that I'd spoken? I looked longingly at him for an instant longer before turning my eyes to another face in the crowd.

Bug stood solemnly, head down, shoulders hunched. Though I saw no trace of tear tracks on his face, I knew he was crying inwardly. It was exactly how I felt, how I wished to feel outwardly as the rest of them did. Bug had been so determined to find something just moments before Dr. Macy had assembled the group. Both he and Nigel had been doggedly searching for something... But what? The two men had acted as though they were on a mission from God, steadily tearing through the mountain of wreckage from the downed aircraft. What was it they had been looking for?

Then there was Sydney. "Damn New Guy," I thought to myself. The amount of ribbing I'd given the poor kid from the first day he'd come into the office had been intense. Sydney had never argued back with intense ribbing of his own, though I knew it should've been due to come my way. Fair was fair, after all. And yet he never said a word other than, "Why do you insist on calling me New Guy? My name is Sydney!" He stood like the rest of the group, his eyes glistening with unshed tears and the saddened expression one can only know from an experience with intense grief. I'd always called him New Guy in favor of Sydney. He'd believed I didn't know his name, but of course that was as untrue as the statement that I didn't like him could've been. Of course I knew his name, and yes I did like him. I knew how hard he worked, just how much he threw himself into his work to prove himself to his fellow co-workers. I sent up a silent prayer for the grieving young man as I turned my gaze one final time.

I focused on the one person I'd purposely avoided looking at for the last several minutes. I could see the haunted look in her eyes, the tortured depths of her own soul. I could see she felt not only pain, but guilt as well. She blamed herself for something... Something she had no control over whatsoever. She was after all, just as human as the rest of us. Jordan Cavanaugh, the person I truly admired the most out of all of my fellow co-workers in the Boston Medical Examiners' Office, had always held that haunted look in her eyes. Though it was strange how it seemed much more pronounced tonight than in any other given occasion. And suddenly the realization struck me with all the force of what had happened several hours before.

I remembered being in Washington, D.C. I remembered the phone call I had made. Suddenly I realized why Jordan's face held that haunted look.

And then I knew... I knew why I couldn't feel the physical emotions my friends all were feeling; it was why I couldn't feel the tears rolling down my own cheeks as I cried with them. It was at that precise moment I knew why Garret hadn't seen me. It was then I understood why neither Woody nor any of the others hadn't heard my whispered words just moments ago. It was why so many of my friends and co-workers were gathered here in one spot, sharing their heart ache and silently grieving. In that instant I realized the sad reality of it all. I was the reason for all of this! I was dead.

As I watched the small group of people I'd come to know and love over these last wonderful months I couldn't help but feel a conflicting pang within my soul. It wasn't fear of never being able to see my family or friends once more. It wasn't the overwhelming sorrow of my all too early death. Instead I felt a strange sort of peace begin to take hold of me. It wrapped me within its protective cloak. Slowly I began to relax in its warmth and allowed it to fully embrace me. I would accept the reality of this situation for what it was and try to go on as best I could.

Slowly the images of Garret, Nigel, Lilly, Woody, Bug, Sydney, and Jordan all began to fade. I looked directly at the little gathering and strained to see them for just a moment longer. I wasn't sure if it would do me any good but I opened my mouth and spoke loud and clear enough to be heard: that is if the spirit of one who has passed can be heard.

"I will always be with you. Thank you for showing me your love and kindness. You are my friends and my family. I love you all."


End file.
